In My Veins
by DeDe324
Summary: 'Everything will change... Nothing stays the same...' He never thought he'd find her this way... He never dreamed of living in a world where she didn't exist. Jax/Tara. 6.13.


**Author's Note**: So, I should be working on 'Madness', but I finally finished season 6 of SOA. TALK ABOUT FEELS. I'll be the first to admit that I've never really gotten all that invested in the whole Jax/Tara dynamic... really, until everything started crashing down around Tara, I didn't really care about her. And then 6.13 happened. And I got it. Those two tore my heart to shreds. And I felt like I had to do this. Don't get me wrong, they aren't my new OTP or anything, but it shouldn't have ended that way. I get it, but it just makes me sad and is just a harsh reminder of the fact that a happy ending is impossible for these guys. *Sigh*

If you've read any of my other stories, this is the same sort of idea as to when I wrote 'Running Up That Hill' for when Daryl found Merle in TWD. Those sort of scenes just kill me, especially if they're done well. Charlie Hunnam killed that scene and he really couldn't have done it if Maggie Siff didn't do her job as well. Now that I've sufficiently babbled, I'll let you read this. Please feel free to leave a review, let me know your thoughts.

**Disclaimer**: Sadly, I don't own anything in the SOA universe. In this case, I don't own anything except the order of words and my own interpretation of how this scene went down. All credit goes to Kurt Sutter, Charlie Hunnam, Maggie Siff, etc. 'In My Veins' is Andrew Belle. This is spoiler-y if you haven't seen 6x13, but it's been like 8 months, hasn't it? But if you haven't seen it, go watch it, cry, and then come back here.

'_**Nothing goes as planned... Everything will break... People say goodbye... In their own special way...'**_

Jax always figured that he and Tara's story would have some sort of tragic end. To be honest, he'd often pictured a cop showing up at their door, Abel hot on her heels, Thomas on her hip, perhaps her own belly swollen with another child as she answered. He imagined how she'd react to being told that he was at the morgue, his body on a cold slab, bullet in his brain, maybe some road rash…

But this…

He was confident that his heart had stopped beating. If he'd been able to pull his gaze from his wife, he was sure he'd see his heart laying on the floor beside him, shattered into pieces.

As it was, he couldn't remember the last time she'd looked so peaceful… He tried to convince himself that she was just sleeping or all the excitement from the past few weeks had finally taken its toll and he just needed to rouse her.

But all the blood…

His gun felt heavy in his hand, the metal burning against his palm. He reached out with a shaky hand, laying the weapon on the kitchen table, his eyes never leaving her. He wished he could tell himself it was all a dream, a nightmare… He'd wake up in the clubhouse with her curled up beside him… or maybe wake up to that day they had been in the park… That had been one of their best days...

But this was now… it was reality…

He pressed a hand to his forehead, tears tracking down his cheeks. How had this happened? He'd been willing to let her go, he loved her that much to let her take their boys and _go_. What had gone so _wrong_?

Jax's feet felt leaden as he moved towards her across the kitchen floor. Bile lodged in his throat and it seemed like he couldn't even _breathe_ as he looked down at her, his hands pulling at his hair. He choked out a strangled sob as his body slid down the cabinet beside her. He crouched over her, his face over hers as his expression crumpled, his eyes burning with tears, blurring her form beneath him, his hands hovering around her face, almost afraid to touch her.

He couldn't imagine a life without her… he'd been in love with her since he was 16 years old, wanted her even longer… She had brought his life into focus, his world revolved around her. How was he supposed to learn how to live without her when she'd always been his true north?

He'd let her go, knowing that she'd still be alive, knowing that she would still be out there while he was behind bars… He'd told himself that would be enough. As long as she was okay… He'd give her what she had wanted all along.

He'd wanted to hate her for what she'd done, for trying to take his boys away, for trying to leave _him_. But when he had seen her in the park, Thomas tight in her arms, it was clear. He could never hate Tara Knowles. She could drive him crazy, she could infuriate him, she could make him want to turn around and never come back… but he couldn't hate her…

He loved her. He loved her the way few men ever manage to love a woman, with his whole body and soul. He understood what she was trying to do. He'd _promised_ her that he would get her and the boys out. He'd _sworn_ to leave SAMCRO behind and start over with her and the boys.

But he hadn't. They were still here. He couldn't blame her for trying to handle what he'd repeatedly failed to do. He didn't agree with her methods, but he understood them… he understood her desperation, why she had done what she did. He couldn't hate her for trying to succeed where he had failed.

But what had it gotten her?

He pulled her into his arms, cradling her against his chest, his lips against her forehead as he cried. She felt so cold. He just wanted her to be warm. He just wanted her to open those beautiful green eyes, tell him it was going to be okay…

His body shook with grief and rage as he held his wife's body close, whispering unintelligible words against her porcelain skin. He shouldn't have left her alone. Everytime he left her, that's when things happened. Kohn… Cameron… Salazar... Otto… He should have kept her close, he should have watched her instead of sending anyone else. Stayed glued to her side until that District Attorney carted him off to jail, made sure she and the boys were safe.

But he hadn't.

Her blood, sticky and tacky against his skin, stained his arms, blended with his tattoos as he cradled her, rocking back and forth, praying to a God he wasn't sure he believed in to fix this, bring her back.

What would happen to Abel? Thomas? How were they supposed to go on without their _mom_? Wendy? Gemma? They weren't Tara. They didn't know how the boys like to have their breakfast exactly 17 minutes after they got out of bed. They didn't know that Thomas liked to be held with his head against their left shoulder. They didn't know that Abel would only take his vitamins with a cold glass of milk, two scoops of Nesquik blended into the glass, followed by his heart medication.

Jax felt like his chest was a gaping wound, like someone had torn his heart from his body and stomped on it, set it on fire. He never knew something could hurt so badly, that something could be so painful but not actually kill him. He recalled that hit from the Russians when he'd been at Stockton, the blade slamming into his ribcage… that had been painful, but it was nothing compared to this.

Even losing Opie hadn't hurt this badly… then again, he'd had her to come home to...

Why hadn't he let her go sooner? He should have turned her away when Abel was born, when she breezed back into Charming after 11 years. He should have kept that door closed, saved her before anything even started. That would have kept her safe, kept her alive.

But he was selfish.

He never wanted anything the way he had always wanted Tara Knowles. He never stopped wanting her, even when he had her. Tara was his reason. Tara was his _life_. Jackson Teller was _nothing_ without Tara Knowles. Had he told her that enough? Had he shown her that enough?

The creak of the front door would have startled him, brought him to his feet, but he didn't hear anything, couldn't see anything. Nothing except the form of the woman in his arms. He couldn't call her Tara. Not anymore. Everything that made her _Tara _was _gone_. He couldn't see the way her green eyes sparkled when she looked at him. That smirk she gave him to tease before they made love was no where to be found. He didn't hear her laugh. He had _nothing_.

His fingers gently stroked the angles of her face, his vision blurring with fresh tears. He pressed his lips to hers, his palm cradling her cheek. He sobbed against her mouth when she didn't return the kiss, the fire that he had become so accustomed to painfully absent.

If he was truly honest with himself, she had been gone the moment she'd been carted off to prison. He'd lost her for something she hadn't even done, lost her for something that he had put into motion. He'd known Toric was his fault, even if he couldn't say it out loud. That was why he'd finally allowed himself to let her go. The only way he could love her was from afar, the only way she could actually be happy and flourish the way she was supposed to was if she was away from him, away from his family. He'd finally accepted that.

But it had all been for _nothing_.

Jax let out a cry that he felt in his bones, wailing as he looked towards the ceiling. He had lost everything. He had nothing left. It was all his fault. He'd never meant for it to come to this, never actually thought he could lose her, not like this. Why hadn't he protected her better?

He buried his face in her hair, his body wracking with sobs, unable to catch his breath. He barely registered that gentle hands were on him, trying to pry him away from his wife as he clutched her tighter. He wasn't going to let go, couldn't let her leave him.

Jackson Nathaniel Teller had failed Tara Grace Knowles and would spend the rest of his days trying to right that wrong, no matter how impossible.


End file.
